


The Ghost of You

by ptrckstmp



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: ?????, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WW2 AU, idk what else to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:46:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptrckstmp/pseuds/ptrckstmp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz was there for a lot of big moment's in Patrick's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of You

**Author's Note:**

> (yeah the title is an MCR song, sue me)

Pete Wentz was there for a lot of big moments in Patrick’s life.

He was there when Patrick finally stood up to the bullies and gave Gabe a black eye that lasted for days.  
He was there when Patrick rescued a stray cat, and he had helped sneak the dirty animal upstairs into Patrick’s room, hoping that Mrs. Stumph wouldn’t find out.  
He was there when Patrick’s dad died, holding Patrick’s hand as he watched them lower the coffin into the ground.  
He was there when Patrick’s jazz quartet preformed for the first time in front of a big audience, standing in the front row and smiling big, dimples showing.  
He was there when Patrick turned 18, and had watched as Patrick had blown the candles out on the beautiful cake his mother had decorated.  
He was Patrick’s first kiss, and he was the one to take Patrick’s virginity.  
He was there when Patrick moved out of his mom’s house and into Pete’s small apartment with him.  
He was there when Patrick got a letter in the mail telling him he’d been drafted, and he’d been the one sobbing against Patrick’s chest, even though it should have been the other way around.  
He was there when Patrick boarded the train, looking very handsome in his uniform, and looking very sad as he waved goodbye to his friends and family.

But he wasn’t there when Patrick finished his first day of basic training and had dropped, exhausted, onto his army issued cot.  
He wasn’t there as Patrick’s baby fat turned to muscle from days of hard work.  
He wasn’t there when Patrick was sent out into the field, frightened and young, steel pot helmet just a little too big on his head and a faded photograph clutched in his hand.  
He wasn’t there as Patrick lay wide eyed in his tent, unable to sleep because of the sound of bombshells dropping in the distance.  
He wasn’t there when Patrick met a young man named Mikey who had made the tortuous days just a little more bearable.  
He wasn’t there when the summer sun burned blisters onto his neck and he wasn’t there when the snow fell and Patrick would have given anything for a warmer coat.  
He wasn’t there when a bomb went off next to Patrick, leaving him deaf in his left ear.  
He wasn’t there as Mikey died in Patrick’s arms, and he wasn’t there to pick Patrick up and tell him to get to safety.  
He wasn’t there as Patrick left his best friend’s body lying in the mud.

But he was there when Patrick stepped off the train, a year after he had gone away.  
He was there when Patrick woke up crying and screaming night after night, plagued by nightmares and screaming Mikey’s name.  
He was there to find Patrick slumped in their kitchen, hand bleeding from a broken vodka bottle, completely drunk.  
He was there to find him in a similar condition the next night, and for many subsequent nights.  
He was there when Patrick, drunk as always, had punched Pete in the face after Pete confronted him about his alcohol problem. The bruise looked just like Gabe’s had years ago.  
He was there to help Patrick out of bed in the morning, and he was there even when Patrick refused to.  
He was there to pull Patrick off the side of a bridge and remind him that life could get better.  
He was there when Patrick finally started talking about what had happened. He was there to listen to every gritty detail of the war and to hold Patrick until sobs stopped shaking his body.  
He was there when Patrick celebrated one month sober from alcohol.  
He was there when Patrick celebrated six months sober from alcohol.  
He was there when Patrick found Mikey’s brother and finally gave him the letter addressed “To Gee, Love Mikey”  
He was there when Patrick relapsed and he was there to nurse his headache the next morning.  
He was there listening to the radio with Patrick when it was announced that the war was over and they danced around the kitchen and toasted each other with champagne glasses of Coca Cola.  
He was there when Patrick got his first job since he got back from the war, and he was there when Patrick got promoted.  
He was there when the two of them bought their house together.  
He was there when Patrick rescued another stray cat, but this time they didn’t have to hide it from anyone.  
He was there when Patrick’s sister had her third child and he watched as Patrick gently cradled the baby in his arms.  
He was there to watch Patrick’s hair thin and his beard turn gray.

He wasn’t there when Patrick died years later, surrounded by family, quietly in his home.  
But he was there moments later to greet him with open arms.


End file.
